Compromised
by Sarah36396
Summary: Completely updated. Six months after the Battle of New York Clint and Natasha are struggling with the aftermath of Loki's visit to earth. Will the long time partners turn away from each other or will they help each other out once again? Rated to be safe.
1. Natasha

**Took this down to edit and then our computer broke so it has been down for about two weeks now. I will get the other chapters updated asap. Sadly I do not have a beta/editor/whatever you want to call it, nor do I have spell check, so you will have to bare with me on minor mistakes. Enjoy, drop a review, and thanks for reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

Natasha sat outside on the balcony, a bottle of recently opened vodka accompanying her. She stared at the clear liquid in her glass, trying to gain control of her thoughts that were running wild, bringing up memories that were best left alone. She took a small drink before sighing as she got up and walked over to the railing. It had been six months since the battle in New York. Six months since she everything she had come to know and live her life by had been compromised. Six months since her world have been flipped upside down.

Natasha had ran as soon as she had gotten the chance; she hadn't been willing to face reality at the time. For the last several months she had been bouncing around cities all across the globe, trying to escape the looming past. She would stay in a hotel for a few days before moving on when the memories became to much. But her problems couldn't be ran from, she could not escape her own mind. Ever since the battle her inner being had been in complete turmoil. She didn't know what to think anymore, didn't know what to believe. All she knew was that she had nearly lost the most important thing in her life and that is what bugged her. Natasha didn't want to care, didn't want to face that fact that she had let someone in, but she had.

With a frown she looked out across the small Italian city, despising the cheery atmosphere. Families were in the nearby park, kites flying high above the trees, children squealing and chasing each other. Wives roamed in the small market to her left, browsing the various stalls that held fruits and vegetables. Below her several french men stood laughing loudly and talking in drunken slurs, adding to her bitter mood. She considered throwing her glass at them, but there was no point in getting charged with assault. Instead she dumped the liquid over the rail before tossing the glass onto the balcony. It landed with a crack as she fell back into the wooden chair with a sigh, the sound of angry french curses drifting up to her ears. She smirked slightly but then it vanished as she dropped her head to her hands, closing her eyes.

"You know, the priceof Vodka has gone uplately. That probably wasn't a wise idea," a voice said from behind her.

On a normal day Natasha would have sprung out of the chair, pulling her gun, and face the person that had snuck up on her. But today she just shrugged, not even bothering to look over her shoulder; She knew who the voice belonged too. And even if it had not been him she would have kept sitting there, pretending the person didn't exist. She was not in the mood to try to deal with anything else except her wild thoughts.

The person walked across the balcony and stood in front of her, crossng his arms and waiting for her to speak . Instead she stared at the man's shoes before slowly working her way up. The thick combat boots were black, as expected. Next came a pair of dark wash jeans, then a black t-shirt. Her eyes finally found his face and his frown. She held his gaze a moment before looking away, unable to stand his stare.

"Why are you here, Clint?" Natasha asked, refusing to look at him.

Clint just shrugged, copying her previous movement. She glowered at him, pushing him aside as she got up and stormed inside. Natasha considered locking him outside on the balcony but decided to slam the door in his face instead. He opened it with a word, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. Clint stared at her a moment before crossing the room to stand in front of her once more. She crossed her arms, rising her chin a bit in defiance as she continued to ignore him.

"How did you know where to find me?" Natasha finally asked.

"I've been keeping tabs on you."

"Oh, great. So now you are S.H.I.E.L.D's watchdog huh?" She snapped.

"I am no one's watchdog. S.H.I.E.L.D has no idea where you are. Like I said, _I _have been keeping tabs on you."

The way he said it sent shivers down her spine and she felt something foreign stir inside. Natasha swallowed before sitting down on the couch, watching his every move as he shifted his weight,picking at the edge of his nail. "Why have you been keeping tabs on me?" She asked as calmy as she could.

"Had to make sure you were staying out of trouble."

"I do not get into trouble."

He snorted at that comment, sitting down across from her. "Yeah,right," He replied simply before starring at her once more, his eyes on her face. Natasha tried to ignore him and pretend he wasn't there but he was getting to her with every passing second.

"What do you want Clint?" She finally asked while frowning, breaking the silence.

"Answers."

"What kind of answers?"

"Why did you run?" Clint held her eyes, noting the fact that she flinched at the question.

"Why does it matter?" She asked nervously, wishing she had that bottle of Vodka about now.

"Because."

"Because why?" Natasha continued to frown. "It is my problem, not yours."

"Not my problem?" Clint asked in disbelief before slamming his fist down on the table,causing the glass to rattle. She jumped, licking her lips nervously. Natasha knew he was pissed and she was the reason for his rage. He would never hit her, no matter how mad he got, but that didn't stop him from taking his anger out of the coffee table. "It is my problem, Natasha. I was compromised too. I lost myself when Loki took over, I became a completely different person. And as soon as I gained control over myself again, I was thrust into battle before I even had time to think about things. The entire time my mind was on the people that had died because of me, the people I had killed. The guilt was eating me alive. What kept me going was the fact that we would talk when all this was over. I knew I would be able to talk to you, that'd you be there and you would understand. But as soon as the smoke cleared you were gone without a word. So for the last six months I have had to just deal with it, wondering if I did something wrong, if I had hurt you somehow. So yeah, it is my problem!" Clint finished his rant, crossing his arms and glaring into her eyes.

Natasha just sat there, letting his harsh words sink in. She had been wrong to leave him; after the hard missions they were always there for each other. But she had left him when he needed her most. She should have been there to make him stop beating himself up over something he couldn't control but instead she had been hoping across the globe, trying to run away. Natasha racked her brain but she could not find the words to make everything alright. She could not tell him the truth, why she had really ran. How was she supposed to tell him that she felt human for the first time since they met? That she felt weak and exposed? That she had nearly died inside when she heard he was compromised. She didn't like the flood of emotions that were overcoming her- Natasha wised that she could just lock them away somewhere and ignore them. But she had already tried that and it was no use. There were words to explain things, she just couldn't force them out of her mouth. So instead she stared at the floor, trying to hide from his gaze.

"I see...Glad to know where I stand, partner." Clint practically spat the last words before pushing off the couch, heading towards the door

His words were like ice and it felt like someone had punched her in the heart as Clint slammed the door behind him. Natasha bit her lip, trying to keep the tears back, but one managed to slide down her cheek. Ever since her conversation with Loki she had felt like her insides had been twisted around. Her very brain was at war with itself, trying to ignore the new found emotions. Everyone looked at her as the strong, unphasible pillar, but that wasn't who she was anymore. She was changing.

With a sob she curled up in a ball, tired of trying to fight herself. She closed her eyes as the tears rolled down her cheeks, waiting for sleep to claim her. No amount of Vodka or sleep could fix this though. She was going to have to do the inevitable and face Clint. With a sigh she finally slipped into a fitful sleep, her tears wetting her pillow. Natasha promised herself that as soon as she woke up she would make things right. She had too. Otherwise she would be torn apart from the inside out...Loki would win, even if he wasn't there to see it. And she wasn't about to let that happen.


	2. Clint

**Edited version of chapter 2. Again, excuse any mistakes. I am trying hard but I have a feeling I am missing a few. Thanks for reading and drop a review. 3 will be posted tomorrow!**

Clint wasn't sure how long he had been running. As soon as he had slammed Natasha's door a bomb had went off inside of him. The flood of emotions was too much to handle. He had hit the pavement running blind, no idea where he was going. He had ran straight past his own hotel and into the park, ignoring the children crying their greetings. Thankfully he was in perfect physical condition, so he could run as long as he pleased. Clint knew he couldn't begin to out run his problems, but he could sure as hell try.

As he completed his fifth lap around the parks track his breath became to come in short rapid burst, his chest heaving. He knew he was pushing himself, but he didn't care at this point. All he could think about was Natasha. How could she turn her back on him like that? He knew they had been put in an interesting position, but it wasn't the first time something had come up between them. She had always stuck around to make sure he was ok. and he had done the same for her. Clint hated himself for coming to rely on the simple questions and comfort they provided for each other. That thought made his chest hurt a little more as he slowed to a walk, trying to put a filter his thoughts.

Clint wasn't sure what he had been thinking when he came to Italy in the first. He should have known she had a reason for distancing herself from him. Had he seriously been stupid enough to fall for her? He was an assassin, he was supposed to keep his feelings pushed away, hidden beneath a thick layer; they weren't supposed to arise and effect his work. But she had breached his mental defenses, and from her reaction earlier, he knew he had done the same to her. Once more they had found a way to compromise each other without meaning to.

With a sigh Clint realized his feet had taken him to his hotel. He entered the lobby, keeping his eyes down as he headed straight for the elevator, ignoring the stares. He could only imagine what he looked like, drenched in sweat and his hair plastered to his head, but he honestly didn't care. He was a mess and that was becoming a frequent thing. The elevator doors opened when he arrived at the top floor and he trudged down the hall to his room. He swiped the card and pushed the door open, letting himself inside.

Any other time he would have appreciated his hotel room. It was like his own person apartment and reminded him of home. But today he just kicked his shoes off at the door, not even bothering to put them up. He headed towards the bathroom, stripping as he went. His shirt landed on the arm of the couch, his socks thrown on the bedroom floor. His jeans and boxers hit the bathroom floor as he turned the cold water knob as far as it would go. Clint waited a moment before stepping into the ice cold water.

The temperature shocked his nerves, causing his stomach muscles to clamp up. Goosebumps danced across his skin and he grounded his teeth, waiting to regain control of his paralyzed muscles. When he finally began to relax he turned on the hot water, sighing as the temperature evened out into a warm stream. He just stood there letting the water run down his neck and face as he watched the water circle towards the drain.

Clint wished that the water would do more than wash away dirt and sweat. He wished it could sweep all of his problems away, that it could wash them down the drain. Maybe he could go down the drain witht them and stop caring. He shook his head at that thought before grabbing a bar of soap and scrubbing at his neck and hair. Maybe, just maybe, he could sleep without dreaming for once. Maybe he could forget his problems for a while and escape into oblivion, but he doubted that would happen. Lately his dreams were full of long dead faces and and Natasha.

Clint stayed under the steam of water until every last drop ran cold, feeling like needle pricks on his arms and back. He turned the water off before stepping out and wrapping a towel around his waist. He dragged a smaller one through his hair before tossing it aside and turning to look into the mirror. Clint frowned at his reflection, realizing he still looked like hell. His wet hair stood up hectically, like someone had shocked him senseless. His eyes were becoming blood shot, the veins in his neck still standing out. How did he miss the fact that he was so stressed?

With another sigh he went made his way into his bedroom, pulling on a pair of boxers before throwing himself across the bed, tossing the towel into a corner. He would pick it up later, but now wasn't the time. Right now he wanted to wallow in self pity, give into the less desirable side of himself. Everyone deserved to sulk every now and then, to feel like the whole world was against them,right? Clint knew Natasha would say no but he forced that thought away as he closed his eyes, his breathing evening out as he slowly sunk into oblivion.

. . . . . .

Clint groaned as he began to regain control of his brain and muscles. He felt as if a truck had parked on top of his body after running over him. He grunted as he tried to move his legs, the sore muscels burning. After a minute he finally peeled his eyes open as he sat up with a yawn and forced himself to stretch. He relaxed for a brief moment before going into full alert mode, his eyes snapping towards the door. Something wasn't right.

Clint rolled out of bed, realizing all his clothes were picked up, the towel no longer in the corner where he had thrown it. He didn't order a room cleaning until tomorrow, and they knew better than to enter his room unauthorized. With a frown he grabbed his pistol from under the bed, snatching a pair of jeans as he went. Clint yanked them of and buttoned them before heading for the door; there was no point for him to have a shoot out in his boxers. As he entered the living room he stiffened and debated on returning to his room and slamming the door.

"What are you doing here?" Clint asked coldly.

"Why does this seem familiar?" Natasha asked sarcastically as she stood up, crossing her arms.

"What are you doing here?" He repeated, silently sitting the gun down on the table.

"I...I'm not really sure," she admitted with a sigh. "I guess to talk."

"Oh, really? It's not like I have tried that or anything."

"Clint," she frowned, her eyes narrowing. "I need to talk."

"I needed to talk too. I've needed to talk for the last six months," Clint snapped but he knew he would listen to her. If there was any chance he could make things right between them he would sit there and listen to her for days. They were not just partners, they were friends. And he last thing he wanted to do was lose his best friend, even if she had hurt him.

"I know and I am sorry," Natasha took a deep breath. She promised herself she wasn't going to cry while doing this. She was going to plow through her little speech and take his rejection like it was no big deal and then she could go on with her life. Or at least that is what she kept telling herself. "You asked why I ran..."

"Yeah," Clint folded his arms across his chest, letting her know he was listening.

"I ran because I was scared-"

"Scared of what?"

"I am getting to that," she glared. "I was scared because I felt...human. Everyone thinks the tears were a ruse, Clint. That I manipulated Loki into telling me what we needed. But that was a mistake. The tears were real; Loki actually got to me. For the first time in years I felt like someone had looked right into my brain and figured me out. It scared me more than it should have. For the first time since I was young I felt my emotional defenses shatter. I was vulnerable. I knew I had to get away, had to hide, until I could try to figure things out. I thought maybe a week or two would do but I am still fighting my own brain. I don't know what to do anymore. Then I realized how much I hurt you, how I left you feeling the same way I do now, and it finally made me crack. I gave up on trying to bury everything- it is ok to feel like this I guess. Maybe it will help in the long run. But my point is that I am sorry Clint. I never meant to hurt you. I was already confused and vulnerable, but then I realized something else after we got you back," Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment. "It really threw me off, and that's when I knew for sure I had to run. Up there on that catwalk when there was the possibility I might have had to kill you...I realized you weren't just a friend or a partner anymore. You mean a lot more than that to me," she finished in a quiet voice,looking down. Natasha wasn't quiet ready to voice her exact thoughts, not yet, but she knew he would understand. Or at least she hoped that he would.

Clint stared at her for what seemed like hours, processing everything she had said, as he replayed her confession over and over again in his head. He hadn't thought about what she might have been feeling after everything that had happened. They were both left raw and exposed by Loki. Instead of being there for one another they had each tried to cast the blame on the other person instead of facing the problem. Clint slowly shook his head before stepping forward and pulling her into a tight hug, not caring that she wasn't one for much physical contact. She surprised him when her arms wrapped around his torso, pulling herself tighter against him.

"I'm sorry Clint," Natasha whispered again,her voice rough. He frowned as he felt something wet his shirt and he tilted her chin up using a calloused thumb to wipe away the tears.

"I'm sorry, too. But don't cry on me now," Clint tried to keep his tone light as he tucked a stand of hair behind her ear. "I'd rather you punch me than cry," he said in a serious tone. It made her smile slightly as she laid her head back against his chest. He pressed his lips against her redcurls, kissing the top of her head. "Sorry I yelled at you."

She just shrugged before looking up to meet his blue eyes, feeling better than she had all in a long time. Her eyes took on a determined look as she reached up to kiss him lightly, wrapping her arms around his neck. Clint closed his eyes, kissing her back with more enthusiasm than she had expected. "You haveno idea how long I have wanted to do that," he explained as she pulled away from him, smiling.

"Well then, we have a lot of time to make up for," she murmured before kissing him again, pushing him back towards his room. Clint's heart leaped into overdrive as he let her lead him, his trying to process what was happening, what was about to happen. He had to think about the fact that this was Natasha, that she was the one that had kissed him. As she shut the door behind them he couldn't help the big goofy grin that split across his face, his eyes watching her every move. If he was a asleep, if he was dreaming, then this was about to be one hell of a dream. Natasha smiled back at him before kissing him once more.

"I need you," She murmured against his lips and Clint's heart skipped a beat as he suddenly became serious. He dropped another kiss to her lips as he held her close, afraid to let go. This wasn't a dream and it was rude to keep a lady waiting.


	3. Two Is Better Than One

**Well, here is the final chapter. All 3 have been updated and edited. I hope you have enoyed this and feel free to drop a review! I could really use the feedback :P I promise I will eventually start working on my other stories again, but at the moment I am doing a lot of editing. My mistakes are driving me insane. Plus I feel like I can go back and add to stories now to help them flow together. So stick with me and thanks for reading! I do not own the song at the end either.**

Natasha continued to kiss Clint as she pressed him against the door, her hands tangling in his hair. Clint's hands were planted on her waist as kissed her deeply, her previous statement urging him on. Natasha reached past him and flipped the lock before whispering a long line of Russian that caused him to groan. Clint closed his eyes, trying to keep control over his body. He was not going to let a single statement drive him crazy, no matter how sexy that statement might have been.

When he opened his eyes again Natasha was smirking at him and he chuckled slightly. "That was hardly fair," Clint murmured before trying to steal another kiss.

"All is fair in love and war," Natasha ducked away from him before running a finger along his jaw. He just chuckled before claiming her lips once more, his hands exploring her back and sides. Natasha closed her eyes as his calloused hands skimmed across her skin, leaving a warm trail where ever he touched. She felt as if her entire body was on fire and the feeling surpirsed her. Despite the teasing from Stark and the large rumours, she had never slept with anyone. That would be a waste of time; Yes, she would seduce men and take them to a hotel room but that was as far as things got. As soon as they were alone she would take care of her target. But men had touched her before and never before had they turned her on like this.

Natasha ground against him and Clint fought the moan that tried to escape his lips. He walked them backwards towards the bed, his lips never leaving hers. Natasha surpirsed him when she switched their posistions and pushed him down before crawling on top of him. Clint raised an eyebrow and she just smiled, crawling up his body to straddle his waist. Clint winced when her knee landed on his hand as she couldn't help but smile.

"Sorry."

"No complaints," Clint replied huskily as he watched her plant kisses along his chest and shoulders. Clint hadn't tried to fight her for dominace yet but he decided to change things up. He carefully flipped them over so that was on top of her, smirking. Natasha just rolled her eyes as he kissed her again, his hands roaming near her waist.

"Someone is feeling bold," Natasha drawled, her own voice full of lust, as his hands played with the hem of her shirt. Clint just chuckled before tugging on the shirt, easily pulling it off of her. He took a moment to take in her sculpted body and lacy bra, his eyes roaming over every inch of her body. Natasha took advantage of the distraction and flipped them over once more, ending his staring.

"Nat," Clint whined as she stayed out of reach when she tried to kiss him.

"Patience," Natasha said smugly before bending down to kiss him, her hips wrecking havoc on his lower body. Apparently she was going to be in control or he was going to pay for it later.

Clint was scared he would wake up any second; his brain was having trouble believing that this could actually be happening. Clint had always found her attractive, even when she had a gun pointed at him. Although he knew it was silly he found her cute when she was made and enjoyed the way she would cross her arms and glared at him. He had always felt something for her but had realized it would never happened. So he settled on being partners, but that had grown into something more. It had grown into a friendship and he had been convinced that was that would ever come out of it. But now Natasha was straddling his waist, shirtless, playing into every fantasy he had ever had about her. He knew every noise he made was fueling her ego by the ever growing smirk on her face.

Natasha finally stretched out across his body, lying her head on his chest as they tried to catch their breath. Clint pressed kissed to her neck and cheek, skimming his fingers along her arm. Natasha smiled as she looked up at him, her eyes scanning his face, raising an eyebrow at the slight crease in his forehead. She knew he had a question burning on his mind.

"What's up?" She asked softly.

"Why all this so suddenly? Just yesterday we were ready to kill each other." Clint's eyes were on hers as he waited for an answer.

"I am tired of trying to fight my feelings. At the end of the day we are human...screwed up humans maybe, but we are human. I can't change that and I guess I finally accept that."

"You are right; we definitely are not normal by any stretch of the imagination. But we are human," He agreed as she laid her hand against his. "We are Assassins and we've saved countries, even the world. Maybe it is time to save each other."

"That was so cheesey Clint," Natasha laughed softly and he grinned.

"Well I am sorry. I didn't have time to think up a Poem or anything," He shot back with a smile.

"You talk too much," she teased, reaching up to kiss him again.

"I don't want to rush into this. You've drove me mad for years," he murmured as he flipped their positions again. "Now it is my turn."

"You think you can?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"I know I can," Clint smirked as he undid the clasp on her bra, tossing it aside.

"Hey," she said in surprise; she hadn't even noticed her moved his hands.

"You forget that I am a ninja," He grinned at her smugly.

"Assassin," Natasha corrected, rolling her eyes.

"Ninja sounds cooler," Clint mused as his hands trailed from her waist to her chest. Natasha closed her eyes as he teased her, her breath hitching in her throat. She knew that she was urging him on with every sound that she made but she couldn't stop the moans that escaped her lips. "Someone is enjoying themself," Clint smirked.

"Shut up," she muttered, arching towards his hands.

"No thank you," he kissed her under her jaw. "I like to boast."

"I figured Tony would be the one to boast in bed, not you."

"If you sleep with Tony I'll kill him," Clint stopped everything and frowned.

"Lighten up," she reached up to mess up his hair. "I wouldn't dream of it. Besides, he isn't you." That made Clint smile and he went back to his previous actions until her breath was coming in gasp.

"Told you I could drive you mad," Clint smiled in victory.

"My turn," was her only reply as she flipped them over, her hands dropping to his waist. She nimbly unbuttoned his jeans, shoving them off with her feet. Clint kicked them off the bed, every nerve in his body on edge. He moaned as she showed him just how skilled she was with those hands; apparently there weren't just go knocking people out and hitting him.

Clint finally flipped them back over, unable to take it anymore. Natasha smirked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Ok, you win," he managed, his voice thick was lust as he fought for control over his body.

"I always do," Natasha smirked. Some how they had managed to get each other completely undressed with missing a beat. Clint considered teasing her some more, but he knew hecouldn't take much more himself so he pulled her onto his chest instead, planting a kiss on her lips.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Do you think I'd be lying here if I wasn't?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"I dunno, maybe. Maybe I am just irresistible," he grinned.

"Yes, Clint. That must be it," she rolled her eyes before laying a hand against his cheek. She looked at him for a long time before leaning forward and kissing him softly. This kiss wasn't heated or demanding. Instead it was soft and let him know exactly how much he meant to her. "I love you," Natasha whispered as she pulled away.

"I know," he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as he smiled. "I knew that the minute I found you standing in the middle of my living room. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I love you too," Clint kissed her gently as he finally joining them together. She sighed contently, lying her head against his chest, content to listen to the sound of his heart as her body adjusted.

"I'm glad," she smiled before looking up at him, a devilish glint in her eyes. "That means I can beat up on you."

"You already did that before," Clint chuckled.

"Well, I guess you are right," She laughed. "Let's just see how much endurance you have." She said wickedly.

Clint smiled as he kissed her back, his hands tracing the curves of her back. Somewhere along the way, during their crazy missions and adventures, they had fallen in love- something they both swore they would never do. Somehow they had snuck past each others defenses and into each others hearts. Clint had always been a lone gun before he met her. He did not like having a parnter and never thought he would. But now he couldn't imagine anyone else covering his back. Maybe the old saying was true; Two is better than one. And he planned on making sure she knew that, even if it took all night.

_So maybe it's true that I can't live without you  
And maybe two is better than one  
But there's so much time to figure out the rest of my life  
And you've already got me coming undone  
And I'm thinking two is better than one_


End file.
